


All Harry's Fault

by pixiedustatsundown



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Pining, more or less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 11:04:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19927048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiedustatsundown/pseuds/pixiedustatsundown
Summary: The only reason Ron ever eventhoughtabout Malfoy was Harry's weird obsession. He watched the bloke for six years, to be a good friend - it can't be expected of him to juststop, tonotnotice how handsome Malfoy looks. Handsome and lost, glared at in the cafeteria. Was Ron supposed toignoreMalfoy now?





	All Harry's Fault

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you at my wonderful [Beta](https://bblgumbby.tumblr.com/) and at [FanficWriter](https://harrypotterfanfictionwriter.tumblr.com/) for the lovely prompt!

Draco Malfoy is very handsome. Has always been, though the constant sneer on his pretty face contorted it into something ugly, something he could easily sneer back at. _Now_ however, humbled after the war, the superior sneer is absent, leaving only porcelain white skin, soft pink lips and beautiful grey eyes. Ron hates that he knows all this, hates that he sees Malfoy’s face when he closes his eyes, hates that he wants to trace his cheekbones and kiss him until his face is flushed. 

It’s really not his fault though - Harry was obsessed with the git since first year, always watching him and rambling on about him. What else was Ron to do but be a good friend and watch with him, notice every detail. The way Malfoy scrunches his nose when he doesn’t like something, the way he frowns and sticks out his tongue when he concentrates on something, the way he smiles when he thinks nobody is watching. Ron watched it all, catalogued it all and forever imprinted it in his memory. For Harry, of course, for this weird obsession of his. 

But now Harry is off, travelling the world in an effort to find himself, and Ron is left alone, training to be an Auror and staring at Malfoy in the Ministry cafeteria. 

Malfoy is indeed very handsome, slacks fitted sinfully tight, shirt pristine and crisp, hair falling free and curling ever so slightly around his ear, hanging into his eyes. He stands tall - not as tall as him, Ron noticed with smug satisfaction - and rigid, holds himself stiffly, muscles tense and head carefully high. Malfoy is obviously uncomfortable in the crowded cafeteria. 

Ron watches his procession through the queue, avoiding eye contact with everyone, meticulously preserving the distance between himself and others. He stands out, like a sore tooth, only much more beautiful, like a unicorn between ordinary horses. A skittish unicorn though, that’s for sure - Malfoy doesn’t even look at the bloke handing him his food. Though that might be fair; the new system is very strange and takes some getting used to. Ron’s father was ecstatic when he heard of the planned change, apparently close to how Muggles handle their food distributions. In the end, Ron doesn’t care as long as he gets food that is edible. 

_Malfoy_ however, he seems to care, and he doesn’t appear to be fond of the system. At all. He clutches the tray tightly, knuckles white, and holds it close as if scared someone will take it from him, as if not wanting to take up too much space, as if not knowing where he is allowed to go next. 

It hurts Ron to watch, how small and lost Malfoy is in the tide of people going about their business, sparing him a scornful glance at best. 

Ron frowns at that. Sure - Malfoy is a prick and made a lot of awful choices during the war - but he was also just a kid. They all were. 

It doesn’t sit right with him, to leave Malfoy to fend for himself, alone and deserted, when really they should have learnt by now how to stick together, to disregard the things that divide them and focus on what unites them. Ron for one has seen quite enough hate and discrimination based on stupid prejudices. 

“Hey, Malfoy!” Malfoy flinches, violently so and with his whole body, and Ron feels bad for a moment before hastening to continue. “Come on, sit down.” 

Malfoy narrows his eyes at him and Ron forces a bright smile on his face. He might be overdoing it a little in his attempt to be inviting, but that can probably be forgiven. It’s not everyday you offer a childhood enemy - even if not strictly your own - a seat at your table to set a sign against society. 

Malfoy glances around, shifting on his feet, before defiantly raising his chin and striding towards Ron. It’s a strange feeling, having Malfoy walk towards him with such purpose, handsome face not twisted into a sneer and pretty mouth not set to spew malice, steady gaze not aiming for Harry at his side. 

Ron could grow used to this. Maybe Malfoy could even _smile_ at him, eventually. 

“Weasley.” Malfoy nods at him, gives him a last calculating look and sits down. He is still tense, but lets out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief, doesn’t look quite as much like a mouse about to be eaten by a kneazle. Ron smiles at the sight. It warms something in him, fills him with pride at being the one to put him at ease. 

Not fully at ease though, and it’s not hard to see why. Malfoy, and by extension Ron, is still being glared at, people whispering and pointing at them. Malfoy keeps his eyes focused on him, the only indication that he is aware of anything else the slight twitching in his ear, the pursing of his lips. 

Malfoy is even more beautiful up close. His eyelashes are incredibly long, the colour light and making them harder to see, but Ron would devote all the time in the world to counting them. His skin isn’t spotless at all, a dusting of freckles Ron never noticed before - highly possible Malfoy glamoured them because they don’t fit the perfect pure-blood image - covering his nose. Ron wants to trace them, to memories every single one of the small dots. They look nothing like Ron’s, not as brazen, not as distinct. Malfoy’s freckles are more covert, like hidden treasures, stars only visible at clear nights. 

The murmuring seems to get louder, the noise swelling, the looks heavier. Intrusive. Distracting. “Want to get out of here?” 

Malfoy gapes at him - literally _gapes_ , mouth open and eyes wide, it’s glorious - before collecting himself, covering his face in a blank mask. “Excuse me?” 

Ron snorts, always so proper. He wants to make him gape again, blush maybe, shake that perfect composure. 

“The food here isn’t all that good anyway. I’m sure it doesn’t meet _your_ standards. They aren’t equipped with the means to satisfy pompous brats here.” He smiles at him, to show that he is teasing, to make him relax some, to make him smile. Miraculously enough, it works. Malfoy gives him a smile, small but lightening up his entire face. He looks down at his food, a formless grey blob labelled _rice pudding_ , face painstakingly neutral. 

“You happen to be right Weasley, this is unacceptable. You think you can do better?” He raises an immaculate eyebrow, lips pulled into a challenging smirk, eyes sparkling. 

Yes, Malfoy has always been handsome, but right now, he is breathtaking.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated!  
> If you liked this story you can [reblog it on Tumblr](https://pixiedustatsundown.tumblr.com/post/186472542513/all-harrys-fault)


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